I feel them more than ye do, O my sons!
But cannot come to you. I, who was wont
To wake at night at the least cry ye made,
To whom ye ran, at every slightest hurt, -
I cannot take you now into my lap

And soothe your pain, but God will take you
Into his pitying arms, and comfort you,
And give you rest.

all

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

I

At My Father's Grave

COME half voiceless here and bring
The sorrow that I dare not sing, -
A grief set evermore apart

In the veiled chamber of my heart.

His mouldering dust can never hear
The tenderest footstep drawing near,
Yet far beyond our finite view
He sings amid the boundless blue.

And though I cannot see him stand,
Within the soul's illumined land,
Yet somewhere by Faith's crystal sea,
I know my father waits for me.

WILLIAM HAMILTON HAYNE.

WH

Substitution

HEN some beloved voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new, What hope? what help? what music will undo That silence to your sense? Not friendship's sigh

Not reason's subtle count, not melody

Of viols, nor pipes that Faunus blew, -
Nor songs of poets, nor of nightingales,
Whose hearts leap upward through the cypress trees
To the clear moon; nor yet the spheric laws
Self-chanted, nor the angel's sweet All hails,
Met in the smile of God. Nay, none of these,
Speak Thou, availing Christ! and fill this pause.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

Blessed are they that Mourn

EEM not that they are blest alone

DEEM

Whose days a peaceful tenor keep; The Anointed Son of God makes known A blessing for the eyes that weep.

The light of smiles shall fill again
The lids that overflow with tears,
And weary hours of woe and pain
Are promises of happier years.

Oh, there are days of sunny rest
For every dark and troubled night,
And grief may bide an evening guest,
But joy shall come with early light.

And thou, who, o'er thy friend's low bier
Dost shed the bitter drops like rain,
Hope that a brighter, happier sphere,
Will give him to thy arms again.

Nor let the good man's trust depart,
Though life its common gifts deny,
Though with a pierced and bleeding heart
And spurned of men he goes to die.

For God hath marked each sorrowing day,
And numbered every secret tear,
For heaven's long age of bliss shall pay

For all His children suffer here.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

By permission of D. Appleton & Co.

From "Brothers and a Sermon "

"WHEN troubles come of God,

When men are frozen out of work, when wives Are sick, when working fathers fail and die, When boats go down at sea—then naught behooves Like patience; but for troubles wrought of men Patience is hard I tell you it is hard."

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"But woe is me! I think there is no sun;
My sun is sunken, and the night grows dark:
None care for me. The children cry for bread,
And I have none, and naught can comfort me;
Even if the heavens were free to such as I,
It were not much, for death is long to wait,
And heaven is far to go!'

"And speakest thou thus,

Despairing of the sun that sets to thee,

And of the earthly love that wanes to thee,

And of the heaven that lieth far from thee?

Peace, peace, fond fool! One draweth near thy door Whose footsteps leave no print across the snow; Thy Sun has risen with comfort in His face,

The smile of heaven, to warm thy frozen heart
And bless thy saintly hand. What! is it long
To wait, and far to go? Thou shalt not go;
Behold, across the snow to thee He comes,
Thy heaven descends; and is it long to wait?
Thou shalt not wait: This night, this night,' He

O woman pale for want, if thou art here,

That on thy lot much thought is spent in heaven; And, coveting the heart a hard man broke,

One standeth patient, watching in the night,

And waiting in the daytime.

If thou wilt answer?

What shall be

He will smile on thee;

One smile of His shall be enough to heal
The wound of man's neglect; and He will sigh,
Pitying the trouble which that sigh shall cure;
And He will speak — speak in the desolate night,
In the dark night: For me a thorny crown
Men wove, and nails were driven in my hands
And feet: there was an earthquake, and I died:
I died and am alive forevermore.